A command had risen into the chill of the air for him, demanding his presence. Had the chill of autumn not been present before the command had hissed into his ears, Kerberos might have considered the possibility that it came from the voice of whom the command had came from. It was a voice that the Aok boy had hoped, vainly it would seem now, to never hear again in his life. For many moons since his arrival in Shearwater Bay the Shaman had tortured him, a frightened boy who no idea of what had happened, by hating him for seemingly no reason. It had been Nutaaq whom had broken the silence and cracked the mystery of where Kerberos came from. The truth of his parentage and true heritage had slammed him like a ton of bricks. Sense had been made them of the hatred Lecter had always harbored for him, on some sort of level. The truth having been reared up so suddenly, drudged up a lot of things that Kerberos had attempted to put to rest as healed wounds. Why had Nanuq lied to him, why had she, never once, in their moments together when he had not been seen by any of the Bay except for her, opened up to him? Had Aktaie truly felt no love for him because he was a spawn? Was he so easily tossed about because he was nothing more than a peace treaty, a pact? Obviously none of the Nereides had cared because none of them had came to visit.

A soft shake of his head was given as Kerberos obliged, against his better reasoning’s, to Lecter’s call, it was useless to think about such things. He would never know and those wounds, had healed. He would not let Lecter rip them back open. There was no love lost between either of them Kerberos was as certain of that as he was that the Sea moved, and so Lecter, by all rights, should not have held any sort of power to toy with Kerberos. Kerberos was not the small, frightened boy anymore. A slight twinge of Kerberos’ nose told him that he was nearing the Shaman, and it proved true when sea-green eyes pierced the space between, settling upon blood stained Shaman. Obviously, Lecter had not changed at all since the last time they had spoken. But Kerberos had (or so he liked to tell himself, at any rate).

Silence, engulfed Kerberos easily as he waited for Lecter to speak first. Silence had always been Kerberos’ best and most favored weapon, probably because he was good at it; and old habits of speak when spoken too tended to die stubborn, hard deaths.

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RE: yes, it will, precious! it will get the hose again - Lecter - September 19, 2013

UM NO YOURS IS!! <3 so nice to thread with you again

The familiar sting of hatred stung Lecter as he watched Kerberos approach; the boy had grown strong, and did not cower from him as he had before. At any rate, however, Lecter had come to an understanding of this situation, and so he let the silence stretch betwixt them before he spoke. Holding the seawater eyes with his own ice-gaze, the shaman ground out his words: "We are each here for some purpose; the Gods of the Bay saw fit to bring us to this place. And so we shall rebuild."

"The sin of Aktaie is not yours to bear." Lecter was quiet for a moment; though he would not claim Kerberos as his own, he grudgingly admitted the cunning of the younger male. How else had he managed to survive during Lecter's time a murderous rank above him? but that was a question for another time. "But it is time for you to learn the ways of Sos, boy. Too long have you focused on the Light, which ultimately failed. Nanuq also worshipped the Goddess, and where is she in this moment?"

The choice fell to Kerberos; he could accept, and allow Lecter's teachings to shape him into a formidable devotee of the Gods, or he could cling in continued foolishness to what he had been taught as a child. Lecter demanded obeisance with his icewater eyes, stance broad and strong as he awaited the younger male's response.

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RE: yes, it will, precious! it will get the hose again - Kerberos - September 19, 2013

<333

It was hard to look at Lecter. Hard to meet the cold ice of coloration, made fiercer by the hatred that Kerberos was unsure if he imagined or if it truly existed there, of Lecter’s irises. It was hard, by all measures of the word, but not impossible. Apathetically Kerberos held the Shaman’s chilly gaze, refusing to look away. Refusing to let Lecter torment him in the ways he had when Kerberos had been but a small child. It was not out of affection, or really much of a respect that Kerberos listened, attentive but unnervingly silent, when Lecter spoke to him. Though, Kerberos could not admit to liking the words that spilled from the Shaman’s lips, they caused a quickening in the beat of his heart. A name was carried upon them, a name that he recognized, a name that he knew, as he knew his own. Aktaie. Siren Queen. Mother. Though Kerberos remained, reluctantly, ignorant of the so-called ‘sin’ Lecter spoke of, though a small hiss of suspicion told him that his (Kerberos’) existence might have been said sin but he didn’t presume to guess; he felt something akin to defensiveness settle in his stomach. “And what sin might that be?” Kerberos broke his silence, finally, for their conversation required both parties to be on the same page, and Kerberos found himself curious as to what, specifically, the Shaman was referring to. Kerberos kept his face a carefully composed mask as Lecter spoke next, his voice forming into something that sounded…rather similar to an offer. Pupils narrowed in their sea-siphoned pools a fraction as the Aok studied Lecter. Jinx, Kerberos knew, was an avid and devoted follower of Sos (as was Lecter) but it was not the Dark Father that had came to Kerberos. It had been the Mother of Light, united with Sea, making his…connection…with Atka stronger. “I mean no disrespect to Nanuq but I am not her,” In fact, he wasn’t even a Kesuk at all. “Atka is united with the Sea, and to both I have a connection --,” Kerberos cut himself off suddenly as if something had gripped his vocal chords and choked them. “I am not…adverse to learning Sos’ ways, I once asked Jinx to teach me voodoo,” Kerberos admitted carefully to Lecter, untrusting of his biological sperm donor (lol). Perhaps it was the Amazon in Kerberos that thirsted, quietly, after the knowledge of such. Kerberos could not be sure. “but there must be a balance and I will not renounce Atka as my primary.” But, maybe, just maybe, Kerberos would be one of the rare ones that found the balance of both of the Great Bears.

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RE: yes, it will, precious! it will get the hose again - Lecter - September 20, 2013

lol at your lol

"Perhaps Atka will reveal it to you, boy," Lecter rejoined sharply, a barb for Kerberos' worship of the Bear Goddess. How the sea-eyed child had managed never to know the beginnings of his birth was mystifying to the pale shaman. However, the rest of the other's words were given contemplation.

"She raised you when your own mother did not." Lecter spared no mercy for the boy who was by nature his son, and it came to him that, despite Kerberos' interest in Sos, or so he claimed, perhaps it was better that they drink from the same pool before pressing on.

He was silent, and let the quietude grow infinitely; Lecter knew that he need choose his words with care. While a great part of him still did not care whether Kerberos lived or died, he had been confronted by his own mortality, and been found wanting.

And so he stepped away from this heated subject for a moment, icewater glare narrowing balefully upon Kerberos' own. "Has the name of your father ever been told to you, Kerberos?" the pale man demanded, moving forward a step.

He did not wish to say it, he did not wish to review this tale of woe, but it wasa truth the boy must know.

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